


Life Span (Discontinued)

by SageAesthetic_19



Series: Illaende's journey [1]
Category: Alien vs Predator (2004), Aliens vs Predators Series - Various Authors, Predator Original Series (1987-1990), preda
Genre: F/M, Sad times, Yautja Honor Code
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-30
Updated: 2020-06-30
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:27:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24991519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SageAesthetic_19/pseuds/SageAesthetic_19
Summary: Hey everyone, this is my first attempt at a big project regarding my Yautja oc Illaende, following her journey to be a hunter from pup to adulthood.Chapter one, beginning with her as a pup and learning tragic news about her father that will project her into a new life story.So if you'd like to follow a full-scale story, I promise with the time I have off to dedicate more time to updating, and hopefully, you'll enjoy what I have in store for her.
Series: Illaende's journey [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1809157
Comments: 3
Kudos: 3





	Life Span (Discontinued)

**Author's Note:**

> I want to give a big shout-out to The_Keeper and Tudor_Rose whose story, The New Blood Dawn inspired me finally begin writing out this project. 
> 
> Please if you have the time, give their story a read it has incredible writing and the characters are to die for. 
> 
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/20725925

How long had the young pup been out under the sunbathed plains, painting the back of her home? 

Had she cared to keep track of time, she would’ve been inside hours ago, tired and eyes aching slightly every time she blinked. Still, she couldn’t find it in herself to move, focusing on the curious little lizard she had spotted in the grass.  
At first, hostile and fast to bite at her dull claws, now slightly subdued to biting on a stick the little yautja had dragged along the dirty ground beneath her. She lifted the stick hungry lizard into the air only for a moment, before it dropped back down onto the dirt. Rather than try to reach for the small creature, her gaze was now held onto the dark metallic pyramids stretching across the horizon. For many years, she’d remember faint amber glows against the bases of the structures, and hunters of her clan gathering into its undoubtedly labyrinth designed walls.

She was unsure of the purpose of the pyramid and had never once actually asked her mama or papa for clarification, but like any child’s intuition, she would’ve been happy going inside even clueless about their origin. Perhaps, in the future, she would be able to.

Her quiet thoughts over the pyramids were broken apart when a crickety door was opened into the outside. Upon looking up, she was met with the figure of a tall yautja calling to her in a strong voice. “Ye-ye? Get inside already. You’ve been out here since sunrise.” She sounded a bit tired herself, no doubt looking over her shoulder from inside, just to make sure her child was still there.

Illaende, ever a defiant child, turned away from her mother. “I don’t want to.” she punctuated her statement by falling back into the grass, as if the soil could contain her and keep her from home. But alas, within moments, her mother had walked over and settled down on her knees and into a crossed seating position, staring down at the child. “You know I can just carry you in, right?”  
Illaende opened her eyes only to retort. “No! I’ll bite!” She went silent once again. Her mother let out a slight amused hum. “I doubt your little fangs could hurt much. In any case--” Illaende was suddenly accosted by two strong arms pulling her up, “--If you won’t go inside, then I’ll just stay out here with you.” Though pouty at first with her change in position, Illaende settled comfortably in her mother’s lap. Another pleasant hum came up from the older yautja, settling her forehead against her child’s. 

She spoke softly, running nimble claws against the child’s dreads. “Must you be so stubborn, child of mine?” Illaende looked up and shook her head, “Yes.” Such simple language, and yet Mish’awni couldn’t help but chuckle, “Just like your father, huh?”  
“M-hm,” Illaende responded quietly before resting her head against her mother’s chest. “When is papa coming home?”  
Mish’awni sighed for a moment and ran her hand down the child’s back. “Soon, pup. You know he’s never gone longer than a week's time.”

“When I grow up, I'm gonna be a hunter like him, mama!” Illaende beamed excitedly. Her mother however did not share the same deposition. The idea of her precious child hunting filled her with dread. Dread she still chose not to show.

“Illaende,” She began softly. “You have so much more opportunity than hunting. More than your father did.” She tried to coerce the little one. “You could be a healer, or a diplomat, or a map maker, like me.”  
“Mama, that’s boring!”  
Illaende pouted and Mish’awni held a hand to her own chest in mock pain.  
“Ah you wounded me, my child.”

Nonetheless, the two broke out into a gentle chuckle. With a gentle claw, Mish’awni tilted the little pup’s head up. “Ye-ye, you won't have to worry about your future for awhile. But, leave the hunting to papa for now, okay?

Illaende couldn’t help but let out a small sigh, nearly off topic, but still not. “I miss him.”  
“I know,” Mish’awni whispered softly, and for a few moments that was all that was exchanged between the two. Just sitting together quietly surrounded by nothing more than the wind and nature was enough to fill in the empty spaces of conversations.

Still, Illaende couldn’t stick with silence for long and spoke, looking toward the pyramids, the subject of her wonder. “Mama?”  
Mish’awni looked down and hummed momentarily before answering, “Yes? What is it, Illaende?”

The little yautja pointed outward towards the great skies and to the blackened pyramids. “What are those? Those big pyramids.”  
Once Mish’awni had looked up as well, she let out a short chuckle and answered accordingly. “My pup, those are graves. Inside the pyramids, we keep the souls and items of those in our clan who have passed. It's how we work to keep their memories alive. Do you understand now?”  
Illaende nodded, and looked up towards her mother, leaning off from her chest to look up at her fully, “Does that mean, you and papa will go there?” She seemed a bit worried, as any child would be towards the concept of death. 

Mish’awni could do nothing more than comfort the child with strokes of her dreads and a soft voice, “Shh, Illaende. Your papa and I won’t end up there for a long time. After all, we still have to watch you grow up!” She nuzzled her forehead against Illaende softly, electing a spirited giggle from the child, which turned into a squeaky yawn. Leaning back against her mother's chest, Mish’awni hoisted up the young yautja to rest her chin on her shoulder. “Come now, you can’t stay awake much longer.” She whispered to the child as she walked back and into their home. Illaende barely murmured, “Yes I can . . .” But Mish’awni did not reply to her child’s poor argument. The older yautja knew when she was right.

Illaende wasn’t conscious for long enough, only feeling the slightest effort to open her eyes when her skin met with soft sheets, in the comfort of her bed. In the brief moments of her consciousness, she could see her mother walk over and to a desk next to the bed, and a faint blue light began to omit from the same desk, but whatever had followed after was unknown to the child, as sleep finally overtook her.

. . .

Mish’awni looked over for a moment, listening to the soft purrs of her sleeping child. She couldn’t help the slight smirk that came to her features. At the very least, she was just happy that she was finally inside and resting. It allowed for the older yautja to begin working on her own projects, without fearing for the pups safety. With Illaende in safe distance, Mish’awni walked over to her desk and pulled close to her from the furthest wooden corner, a small metallic cube. Tapping the cube once allowed a blue projection forth from the metal surface and into the air, displaying a map of tubes, pathways, and sliding platforms.

This was Mish’awni’s craftsmanship, the designs and platforms of many different structures for her planet were in her hands. She set to work slowly, moving her claws up to the hologram and moving sections around, for a better format. It troubled her sometimes, unsure if she was permitted to make the routers even just, a bit easier for young blooded trials. She hesitated often and praised herself sparingly. Still, she was one of Prime’s finest in map making, and she would take the title without question.

Moving another section in angled degrees, Mish’awni’s work became perturbed from a knock at her door. She allowed herself a spark of joy, only for a moment before her instinct to rationalize kicked in. It would be too soon for her husband to return. Therefore he couldn’t be the one knocking. She straightened up from her desk and dusted herself off lightly before walking over, and opening the slightly creaking door.  
Before her stood a familiar yautja, in guardian armor and his mask drawn away onto his chest. A solemn look was held on his face, and yet, she hadn’t noticed right away. Too caught up in a sense of relief of who it was. “Racha, old friend.” she crossed her arms, looking down at him, “What brings you by? You didn’t break the map I sent you for your trainee’s did you? I swear.” She shook her head jokingly until Racha’s concerned tone was cut through her few moments of joy. “I actually came to inform you. Chii-ten’ye’s ship returned to base.”

She looked up, eyes wide, and once more did fleeting happiness found its way into her throat, only to sour and turn to fear, “He . . . oh god, is he hurt? Injured?” she composed herself from her sudden burst in emotion and continued. “Is he with you?” she was yearning, desperate to know why her husband was back so soon. Desperate to know that he was safe.

She tried looking out the door for any sign of him, but Racha answered before she could. “His ship returned . . . but he was not inside. We also received a reading that his detonation sequence was activated.”

A lump formed in Mish’awni’s throat, trying to fight her mind from processing those words and accepting the obvious painful truth. “What . . . What are you saying, Racha?”

Racha breathed out and spoke. The sharpest words he would ever have leave his mouth.  
“Chii-ten’ye is dead. I’m sorry.”

At that moment, Mish’awni’s mind finally accepted, and what followed were the most painful emotions clawing their way out of her heart, and making her eyes sting with the need to grieve. But she wouldn’t. Not in the presence of a man, while considered a friend, was an outsider to her pain. 

Racha reached to squeeze her shoulder lightly and tried to comfort. “He was a dear friend of mine, Mish’awni. You know that. If you need anything, please don’t hesitate to call on me.” She blinked the tears out of her eyes and spoke with what little control she had left in her voice. “Of course. Thank you, Racha. At least I know, he died--” She fought to keep the tears in, “--honorably.” That’s all that could be asked for. That was all the solace she had to look for.  
Racha nodded at that, let go of her shoulder, and turned to leave. “Goodbye, Mish’awni.”  
She hadn’t answered back, having already closed the door when he was far enough, to leave her in silence.

Mish’awni could only stare at the ground, focusing on its deep color before she could notice the dark spots beginning to stain the floor. In the next moment, she realized the spots were created from the tears finally slipping over, clinging to her skin, and in the very next moment, she had lost her battle completely.  
Sliding down to the wood floor, desperate to cover her mouth in hopes her sweet child could not hear her mother's pathetic cries. A clawed hand stabbed into the wooden frame of the door, her effort to hold onto something for comfort.

It was hours before the older yautja’s softly violent tears dried, and she was stuck in place, against the door. She could only breathe in and out, as the moment Racha came to the door felt years ago. Mish’awni could’ve allowed her aching eyes to close at that moment, fall asleep in her grief before a voice shook her out of her thoughts. 

“Mama? Why are you crying?”

The older yautja’ head shot up, tear stricken eyes and an unbalanced frame all her daughter saw.  
Illaende had never once seen her mother so vulnerable. It scared her a little.  
She asked again, “Mama? What’s wrong?”

Mish’awni struggled to get the words out, and only stood shakily to move closer to the girl before her. She sat back on her knees and took Illaende’s claws in each of her own. She took in a deep breath to compose herself, ready to explain to her child the hardest news of her life.

It would be a long night for the both of them.


End file.
